The Enticing Light
by HonourProject
Summary: AU.What if Sirius raised Harry? What if Harry was captured? eventual H/G. T for swearing


**Hello. Sorry for not updating A Change in Perspective very much. It's been a busy summer for me and I've had a bit of writers block with that story. Anyways I've also had this one on my mind for a while and I had a muse for it recently. Anyways heres a summary**

**What If Sirius broke out of Azkaban earlier? He went and rescued Harry from the Dursley's... But everyone still believes Sirius is a mass murderer. Harry and Sirius have been on the run from both Voldemort and the Order since. **

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. I am not richer than the Queen of England. If I was, I wouldn't be reluctant to pay my library overdue fines. ($6 worth if you're wondering)**

Arthur Weasley took in the sight of the graveyard before him. The Order had been given an anonymous tip about a Deatheater meeting taking place just outside Little Hangleton and instantaneously half the Order apparated to the scene. Upon their arrival there was a brief but violent skirmish between the two sides. However the deatheaters quickly saw they were outnumbered and disapparated before Kingsley could set up the Apparation wards. This was Arthur's first sight of action since the last war and he'd been shaken by it.

In the 5 minutes that the fight took place, there were many injuries. Tonks had been fighting Bellatrix when a shot from behind took her down. Sadistic and insane as she is, Bellatrix took the opportunity to torture Tonks continuously with the Cruciatus Curse. Tonks survived, albeit barely. She was immediately rushed to St. Mungo's for emergency attention. Arthur could still hear her screams.

Dedalus Diggle was hit by an unknown curse that caused him to bleed uncontrollably from his mouth and ears. His trademark purple top hat was still on the ground from where he fainted due to blood loss. Dark bloodstains marred its usual bright colour. He too had been rushed to St. Mungo's.

There were less serious injuries too: Remus sported a broken arm, Bill was missing a finger, Moody's fake leg had a large chunk taken out of it and Arthur himself had a large gash across his forehead. Blood had trickled down his face, eventually drying and crusting around his eyes. He knew he must look a sight, but there was still some investigating to be done before he could spare a moment to attend to himself. The Order had to see if anything was left behind that could give them a clue, a slight hint, as to why they had had a meeting. As one of the less injured Order members left, he took it upon himself to help do as much as he could.

Suddenly Hestia Jones called out into the amazingly quiet nighttime.

"Arthur! Maybe you should come over here…I thi- I think I found something." called out Hestia hesitantly. "We may need a healer."

Arthur quickly hurried over to her. They were in a slight clearing in the heart of the graveyard. A tall angel of Death was the focus of there attention. Tied tightly to a head stone next to the Angel was a blonde haired youth who had obviously been extensively tortured by various means. He hung limply in his bonds; his curly blonde hair matted with blood fell and covered his shut eyes. Arthur guessed his age at 16 or 17, but it was hard to tell. Dark purple bruises covered his face and what they could see of his chest. A big gush of wind blew through the clearing, and only then did Arthur notice that the boy was wearing a thin blue tank top and black board shorts. There was blood everywhere. The grass around the headstone was saturated in it. The rope that bound the boy must have once been a light tan colour, but was now a blacky-red.

"Hestia, go get a medi-witch. He needs help." Commanded Arthur. He whipped out his wand and shouted "Diffindo!" The ropes that tied the boy were cut and he fell heavily to the ground before Arthur could catch him. Hestia reappeared quickly with 2 Healers.

"Alright let's see what we have here" said one of the Healers. Gently rolling the lad over, the Healers declared they were going to attempt to revive him. "If we wake him now, there may be a better chance of him being able to help us. If we wait too long, he may have some memory damage from the torture."

Arthur had a brief doubt cross his mind. _What if this guy is a deatheater who got on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's bad side? What if the poor tortured lad in front of him is the enemy? Is this a good idea? _Arthur quickly banished these thoughts from his mind. _He's only around Ronald's age. He's too innocent. He can't be. _

"Rennervate" said one of the Healers, pointing their wand at the boy.

Instantaneously vivid green eyes snapped open.

Arthur was shocked when he saw in the boy's eyes. If he now had to guess his age Arthur would have said at least 60. Those eyes had seen more than they should ever see. They look wise, and pained. Way too serious…angry…scared for those of a teenager.

Scrambling back from the crouching Healers the boy jumped into a standing position and pulled out a wand from a back pocket, pointing it threateningly at the small group. The motion was unsteady and he nearly fell over. His face obviously paled as he tried to keep himself from falling unconscious again.

Arthur held up his hands in a way to show the by he was not about to attack him.

"Hold on there mate, you're safe now. We're all with the Order— "

At these words the eyes of the youth widened. He looked panicked. Wordlessly, he cast a blasting spell that sent Arthur and the others flying through the air. Landing on the other side of the clearing, Arthur propped himself up on his elbows and gasped. The breath had been knocked out of him.

* * *

><p><em>Shit shit shit. First Voldemort, now the bloody Order. The very last people I wanted to meet. Some birthday this was turning out to be.<em>

From over his shoulder he could hear the ginger haired man yelling for help. He allowed his magic to fill him. Reaching out and sensing magic, just like he was taught to do, he discovered there was anti-apparation wards in place.

_Probably left over from their attack. Guess this means I'll have to make it out of the boundary to escape. _

Looking himself over, he found he was in a bad position. If he was recollection correctly, he'd been stabbed in the back of his calf, damaging the muscle.

_I won't be making it far on this._

In fact, he could hardly put weight on it at all. He took a determined breath and rapidly started hobbling for what he assumed was the edge of the boundary. All around him he heard the yelling of different Order members. However, he could not make out any of their words. Funny how adrenaline does that to someone. Reaching out again with his magic, he found he was almost at the edge. He had done it!

Then, from out of nowhere, a trip jinx caught him, causing him to faceplant painfully on the ground. Several audible cracks originated from his chest and he knew his initially bruise ribs were now probably broken. Injured and having difficulty staying conscious, he knew he was in trouble.

_I've got to-…got to send a message. May be…my last chance. _Silently, a ghostly stag sprang from his wand and galloped into the night.

His last conscious thought before the darkness took him was about the man he sent the message to.

_I'm sorry…Sirius._


End file.
